Neurons that fire together, wire together,
Donald Hebb says, as quoted by Rick Hanson, neuropsychologist,
in a teleseminar series of the Institute of Noetic Sciences'
Self-directed Neuroplasticity and the Brain.
If she wants to see me,
why doesn't she call?
Self-directed, meaning, you redirect to pleasant thoughts
when caught in worry or despair.
You are in control. When you
think indigestion might be a heart attack,
though you took the baby aspirin
and there's no pain in your arm,
smelling the tangerines might help.
Neurons that fire together wire together.
These primordial tracks, scanning
for alarm, aren't always necessary now.
Who loves me?
Why is there dust on the stairs?
Maybe, gluten really does tire me out.
Return to the tangerine.
It's 4:40 pm. I turn on the kettle.
Outside, the light caught in the tree is shimmering.
Alison McCabe is a poet and psychotherapist in Oakland and San Francisco. She loves how poetry demands her to pay attention, whittle away the unnecessary and get closer to the truth of a thing. She has previously published in the online journal, Literary Mamas. Alison can be reached at her professional website: www.alisonmccabe.com.
I Watch Myself Loop
excerpts from whatever
Seasonal Affective Disorder
Sizzle and Chew
Satan's Skull Glows White Hot
When Lost in the Woods
Stasis in Ragtime
In Late November, There Are
Days of False Clemency